Blades of the Banished - Robert Ryan Page 0,20

appalled him. The pit was filled with bones; the long bones of human legs and arms. Rib bones. Small bones and hollow-socketed skulls. They all lay together in a mass, deep as a lake.

And then, white and tumbling, as though they were part of a churning sea of human death, the bones seethed. A noise came to his ears at the same time. It was no crashing of waves, no lapping of water against a bank. It was a dry and dusty rattle.

Something moved far down within the pit of death, and it swam through the loose bones toward the surface.

7. The Last Swamp

Talgin waited patiently for a report.

He saw that the scouts were returning now, but he already knew what they would say when they reached him. Did nothing ever go according to plan?

He watched as the Raithlin rode toward him over the plain. The grass was dry and stunted, and there was a risk of the horses kicking up a dust cloud behind them. That would mark their location to the enemy, if the enemy did not already know it. But they did know it. Of that, he was sure.

The Raithlin knew what they were doing though. They travelled with speed, which was not a good sign, but they held the pace back enough so that they raised little dust. Also, they stayed away from each other in order to ensure that what dust there was could not come together and form a prominent cloud.

They neared the fringe of trees under which he stood. He, and the remaining eighteen Raithlin. The returning riders made twenty-one: all that was left of the original hundred.

It could be worse, he supposed. But it could be better too. He would never forgive the king for disbanding the Raithlin, and then allowing Ebona into the city. Nor would he forgive the Witch-queen. The blood of scores of Raithlin was on her hands, and he would make her pay for that. At least, if he lived long enough.

Revenge, he contemplated, was better suited to the young – they had the time to accomplish it. He was beginning to feel old, far too old to think that he would see the final outcome of the struggle now playing out.

Arawdan approached, riding from the bright sun of the plains into the dark shade beneath the fringe of trees. He pulled up his mount. The other two came in at the same time, but Arawdan spoke first, being the most senior.

“They come, Lindrath. The enemy has our trail. We have no more than an hour before they reach this place.”

Talgin did not like being called Lindrath anymore. The title was no longer his, but the men did not know that. Not yet, anyway.

“How many?”

Arawdan answered without hesitation. “A troop of one hundred.”

Talgin did not need to ask him if he was sure. He was a Raithlin, and they did not make mistakes about such matters. It was a lot of Royal Guards, but perhaps he should be grateful it was not a thousand.

He glanced around him at the men. They were badly outnumbered and they must avoid their pursuers, at least until they found a way to turn things to their advantage. Avoiding them was no problem in itself, or it would not be if that was their only concern. But they had a reason not to stray far from where they were. They waited, on the southern edge of Galenthern, on the rim of the last swamp, for Lanrik and Erlissa’s return. Hopefully, with the lòhren Aranloth.

He signaled the men with a wave of his hand.

“We go into the swamp,” he said. “Stay on the main trail.”

They formed a column and passed through the fringe of trees. As they rode, other Raithlin joined them, until all twenty-one were in the line.

He hoped the guards would not follow them. That they could was obvious. They had passable trackers with them, and by necessity the trail left by his men, a large group on horseback, was near impossible to hide.

The guards had no doubt ventured into Galenthern to find them. The trail from the tor to here being plain, they had pursued. Whether they would risk entering the swamp was another matter. But Ebona was their mistress, and to return to her and report failure was not something that they would like to do. It was a pity, but the guards would come after them, even if the advantage of their numbers was diminished in an environment better